Show Me Yours and I'll Show You Mine
by MountainMan74
Summary: Alfred's a jock and Arthur's a punk and neither of them think that mix would go particularly well. When the chance arises, however, the boys strike a deal for a little test run. Rated: MA
1. Chapter 1

That bastard.

He just _had _to dress like that, didn't he. The son of a bitch. Who did he think he was? Black skinny jeans with rips across his thighs, showing off tantalizing strips of his pale skin? Even from here, he could see the green detailing in the stitches. No one in the school wore as much green as that guy. His eyes were green, he had green tips on his hair, he wore the same green high top converse almost every day. But Alfred could handle the jeans and the shoes, and the hair. The eyes got to him a little but he'd never admit that. What he had trouble with was the fact that, since boys weren't subject to the same strict dress code rules as the girls, the ass got away with wearing an almost skimpy vest top underneath a fishnet shirt. Long-sleeved, with cuffs on the end and holes for his thumbs so they wouldn't ride up. The mesh stretched over his narrow shoulders in an even more torturous way than the rips in his jeans did. Black over more green—no surprise there. And peeking out from under the green fabric, still noticeable under the fishnet, was the top of a tattoo that Alfred desperately wanted to see. He had no idea what it was, but damn he was curious. Maybe it went all the way down his spine—that'd be fucking sexy.

As he watched, the green-clad teen leaned forward in his chair and tucked his feet under his chair, ankles crossed. Alfred could tell he was chewing on his lower lip as he focused on the teacher. No, not his lip, he was playing with one of those god damn lip rings. Snakebites. He shouldn't have been allowed to wear them in school, but none of the teachers gave a shit anymore, so he wore them like he was born to do it. He had silver hoops going all the way around one ear, shiny and bright against his hair. Alfred wanted to bite them and tug as he shoved the other boy's shirt up to see what that tattoo was.

Fuming and rigid in his chair, he gripped his pencil so tightly the wood creaked; it would snap if he squeezed too much harder. He didn't care, though, and he didn't care about the lecture that was going on, either. School didn't really matter to him at the moment, not when that damn punk was being so…ugh.

_If we weren't at school right now…_

Alfred liked to think he would teach the other student a lesson. Shove him against a wall and show him who was boss. Claim him. Mark him all over so the little asshole would learn how to behave, so he'd never let anyone else touch him ever again. In his head, he bent his tormentor to his will and kept him for his own. But that was only in his head because Alfred knew he would never actually do it, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had a reputation to keep, after all, and they were in completely different social circles. He, Alfred Jones, star athlete of the school, couldn't be seen getting involved with some punk, especially not one with such a promiscuous reputation.

No, he couldn't have him, and that was the most frustrating part.

X

Heh.

Arthur knew he was being watched. He could feel eyes on him and he had a pretty good idea of who those eyes belonged to. It was almost too much fun to pretend to pay attention. This class was easy and he was too smart for it, so he never really listened. His grades were still high, despite his reputation as a troublemaker.

_Eat your heart out, Jones._

Yeah, it was definitely that obnoxious jock who was watching him. He tongued his right lip ring just a little more—the athlete was sure to see it—and held back a grin. Teasing the other student was his favorite pastime. He knew he drove Jones crazy and he didn't feel even the smallest bit of guilt. Why should he? It wasn't like he was doing it on purpose. Not at first, at least, and he never did anything too out of the ordinary to catch the other blond's attention. He was just…inviting. But in a challenging way. He couldn't make things too easy for Mister High and Mighty Athlete. That wouldn't have been any fun at all, and Arthur was all about having fun.

The bell rang suddenly, signaling the end of class, and Arthur began to gather his things. His textbook had only been open for appearances' sake, and he hadn't written a thing in his notebook—the college-ruled pages held little other than doodles and lyrics.

"Hey, Art," a voice called out to him almost as soon as he was out the classroom door, and the teen turned to see another student walking towards him. The other was tall and thin, with white hair and red eyes and a grin to match his ego.

"Hey." Arthur waited for the taller male to reach him then continued on his way to his locker to put away his books for his next class.

"What time are we meeting for practice tonight?" Gil leaned one shoulder against the locker beside Arthur's and looked down at the blond.

"Six. Concert's at eight—I want to run through the show at least once." He stacked his books on the lower shelf and closed his locker door with a quiet slam.

"Cool. See you at six."

"See ya."

The two turned their separate ways and Arthur began the rather long trek to his next class—P.E. It was his last class of the day and he had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, he hated P.E. Being forced to run circles with a bunch of sweaty idiots while the teacher blew his whistle as loud as possible wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Athletics had never been his thing.

But, as he walked into the locker room and headed towards his locker in the back corner where he could change away from the eyes of the other boys, he couldn't help but spot the one thing that made this class bearable.

Jones was already at his locker and changing, and while Arthur didn't dare linger and look, he appreciated the physical traits of one of the school's best athletes. He might not have the highest opinion of him, but there was no denying the other blond was attractive.

When he changed, Arthur kept his side to the rest of the room. He didn't want anyone getting too clear of a view of his chest or back, so he was quick to strip off his two shirts and replace them with the loose vest top he wore for this class. Gym shorts that he hated replaced his skinny jeans, and a pair of plain tennis shoes took over for his converse. These new clothes hung around his frame, obviously too big for him, and he knew he looked ridiculous. Baggy clothing just didn't suit him, and certainly not baggy sportswear. And he had to take out all of his piercings, which left him feeling a bit naked and boring.

His mood deteriorated significantly by his attire, Arthur left the locker room along with everyone else and filed into the gym. They had to wait along one set of folded bleachers for the girls to finish changing, and idle chit-chat took place during those few minutes. Arthur placed himself next to the only person in this class that he actually talked to—a tall brunet with dark green eyes—and they both leaned against the bleachers.

"What torture is he putting us through today?" he asked, not loudly enough for anyone else to hear but enough so that his companion would understand his question.

Lifting an arm, the brunet pointed to where thing mats covered a large portion of the gym floor. "Wrestling."

"Great." Arthur couldn't help the sarcasm that weighed down his voice.

Once the girls finally arrived, the P.E. instructor sent them on a five-lap warm up jog. Arthur's companion was in the front of the group, his long legs and athletic body putting him right next to Jones. The two were just short of friends, having athletics in common. Arthur, meanwhile, kept towards the back. It wasn't that he was slow or out of shape, he was just lazy and he didn't see the point in trying really hard in a class he didn't want to be in.

Five laps went by slowly, the class stretching out around almost half of the gym. If they'd had to go much farther, the leaders would have lapped the lagers, and that would have put Jones right in Arthur's vicinity, just where he didn't want him. Not while he was wearing these ugly clothes.

"Today we begin the wrestling portion of class," the instructor announced while the students spaced themselves out on one half of the gym floor and stretched. "You'll be put into pairs to practice the moves and holds. Tomorrow we'll do single-round matches and rotate so everyone faces everyone. The pairs for today are Jones and Kirkland, Carriedo and—"

Arthur didn't listen to the rest of the names being called. He was too busy trying to understand that he'd been paired with Jones. Why? Why the hell would their P.E. instructor think they were a good match for wrestling? They were physical opposites! He was short and skinny and Jones was tall and muscular! The jock was going to kick his ass! He didn't stand a chance!

Green eyes glancing sideways, he spotted the other blond looking at him with just as much shock and confusion and apprehension as he knew was on his own face. They'd never been paired together before. Never. They'd barely said so much as a word to each other.

_And now he's going to be pinning me down on a mat for everyone to see._

Embarrassing, but…also a little exciting. He knew Jones was attracted to him and he would have to be an idiot not to be attracted right back, but he'd never meant to act on it. Even though the thought of having those arms wrapped around him, holding him tight against that chest, was enough to make his pulse race. Jones was sexy and there was no denying that. Wrestling him really wouldn't be that bad. Mostly, it would be an awful sort of tease.

With the rest of the class, Arthur moved to the section of the gym where the mats were set up and warily squared off with his partner. He sort of expected Jones to say he'd take it easy, but the taller blond didn't say a word. They just stood there, sizing each other up. Damn, the bastard looked good in his gym clothes. This sort of outfit suited him. A cutoff to display his arms, shorts that stopped just above his knees. He had the calves of a god. Not that Arthur looked.

"Shoes off!"

Right, no shoes on the mats. They were all going to have their sweaty feet out for each other to smell.

Arthur kicked his shoes off along with everyone else and removed his socks as an afterthought. Bare feet would give a better grip. He stepped up onto the mat and waited as Jones did the same, also shoeless and sockless and—why the bloody hell was that bastard shirtless?

The taller blond noticed his staring and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Doing his best to look mildly disgusted instead of impressed, Arthur crossed his arms. "You'll sweat on me."

"That's going to happen either way."

"This way is stickier."

"We have to shower after this anyway what's the difference?"

"The difference is I'll have your jock sweat all over my body."

A smirk lifted one side of the bespectacled blond's mouth. "Is that a bad thing?"

For the first time, Arthur didn't have a comeback. This was the most they'd ever spoken to each other and of course he'd known there was some amount of attraction between them but that was blatant flirting and he wasn't sure how to deal with it. He wouldn't exactly mind what Jones was suggesting but people didn't flirt with him first. He always made the first move. Always. He was Arthur Kirkland and he was in a punk rock band and no one hit on him first.

_Don't back down from that._

With the most deadpan look he could manage, Arthur shrugged. "Depends."

Both boys stepped into the center of the mat just like everyone else was doing, but there was a certain amount of tension between them that didn't exist with the other pairs.

From his superior height, Jones gave an amused grin as he looked down at the shorter blond. "Depends on what?"

"Depends on what I leave all over your body."

The amusement became surprised and maybe a little impressed. "I guess we'll have to see."

"I guess."

The instructor's whistle sounded at that moment but Arthur and Alfred didn't look away from each other. They hadn't broken eye contact in over a minute and they were both starting to feel the effects. Alfred's earlier thoughts about marking the smaller male were resurfacing and he was starting to look forward to wrestling him.

_Not the sort of wrestling I had in mind._

But it would have to do, and as the instructor guided them through a few basic moves, he let himself press a little closer to the green-eyed blond, gripped him a little tighter than was necessary.

"You'll bruise me," Arthur commented off-handedly.

"That's the idea."

Rolling his eyes, he shifted in the larger student's hold and froze suddenly.

_Are you fucking joking? He's hard from this?_

There was no mistaking it. Jones had a boner and it was being pressed rather firmly against Arthur's ass as he was held against the mat.

With a breathless chuckle, he turned his head far enough to see the blue-eyed blond's face. "Excited just from this? Wow."

Alfred gave an almost imperceptible buck. "Shut up."

"Oooh, someone's got a temper. What's the matter, your girlfriend won't help you out with Jones Junior?"

Growling, Alfred roughly shoved the Brit down onto the mat and pinned his arm behind his back. "I told you to shut up."

"I would but your dick's still poking me."

Another growl and the taller blond pressed closer, making sure Arthur could feel every bit of his anatomy. "If we weren't in school, your ass'd be mine."

Arthur used his free arm to push, forcing himself back against Alfred to rub just slightly. "Is that a promise, love?" His accent broke through more than normal, making his tone more teasing than it would have been.

"Yeah." Alfred's voice was strained.

"All right, break it up! Jones, get off him. The real matches aren't until tomorrow."

Rougher than necessary, Alfred pushed himself off the green-eyed student and stood. "Sorry."

Standing and straightening his clothes, Arthur gave the taller blond a sidelong glance and a knowing look.

"What?" Alfred all but snapped, and Arthur grinned smugly.

"I knew you wanted me." Before Alfred could say anything else, Arthur moved to stand just in front of him again. "I'll make you a deal, Jones," he whispered, looking up at the athlete through his bangs. "You come to my concert tonight, and I'll let you put more than your sweat all over me."

For a moment, Alfred was left speechless, then he cleared his throat and lifted his chin. "When and where is this concert of yours?"

Arthur grinned—today was turning out much better than expected.

X

He'd never been so out of his element in his life. Of course he'd known Arthur wasn't the only punk in the world, but being surrounded by them wasn't something he'd ever expected to experience. Yet there he was, dressed in jeans and a plain back tshirt, standing in a dark, grassy area with a stage set up in front of some trees. Large speakers stood to either side of the stage, and a rack full of lights sat waiting. Voices sounded from every direction and Alfred hoped he didn't look too out of place. He was just there to see Arthur perform so he could finally make the little fucker shut his damn mouth. Or open it and keep it open…both. Both would be good.

If it had been up to him, he would have skipped this concert nonsense. He hadn't even known Arthur was in a band until earlier today and he wasn't sure he was going to enjoy this type of music. Mostly, he listened to rock, not punk. But he was willing to put up with it. It couldn't be that bad, and it would be worth it. After the concert, Arthur would finally be his.

_No strings attached. No one's gonna know._

This couldn't get back to school. If people knew he was screwing the biggest punk in the area, his entire reputation would be thrown off track. He was going to do this just once, just to get Arthur and his stupid lip rings and his damn eyes out of his system. One night would be enough—it was just a crush, anyway. Just an infatuation. He, Alfred F. Jones, had too many options to settle for a troublemaker like Arthur. This was for fun because that smaller blond had offered. A concert in exchange for a good fuck? No way was he going to pass this up.

Suddenly, a guitar thrum blasted from the speakers and the people around Alfred screamed and cheered, almost making him flinch.

"Ladies and Gents!" a familiar voice shouted over the fading note. "We welcome you to our concert tonight! We're gonna play a few of your favorites and a couple new ones you might recognize! Now, please, let me hear you scream for Firebite!"

Light flooded the stage as the concert's attendants did just as they'd been told, screaming and throwing their fists into the air. Four figures stood out on the stage, each with an arm raised in welcome. The surge of energy their appearance caused swept over Alfred and he found himself cheering along with the rest of them despite having never heard of Firebite before this moment. He wasn't quite close enough to the stage to make out the band members' faces, but he still knew which one was Arthur. The green-eyed blond was second from the right, a guitar slung low across his waist, and probably grinning like a madman. Alfred couldn't wait to get his hands on him when all of this was over, but for the moment he was enjoying the energy and enthusiasm that the crowd was giving off, and as the band members lowered their hands and he watched them rearrange themselves for the first song, he decided he didn't really mind having to wait until after the concert. Watching Arthur perform might just make this whole night a hell of a lot more exciting, and that was saying something.


	2. Chapter 2

After the concert was chaos. People were moving in herds, some towards the stage and some towards the park exits. Alfred found himself nearly alone for the first time since arriving at the park, and he moved with single-minded determination. The last thing Arthur had said to him hours earlier rang in his head and urged him on, making him impatient.

_Come backstage after the concert. My parents aren't home tonight, so we'll go to my place. And _don't _disappoint me, Jones._

All he had to do was get backstage and that damn punk wouldn't be such a fucking tease anymore.

With his chin up and his expression set to discourage anyone getting in his way, Alfred approached the crowd of those who'd stayed. They were surrounding the stairs that led to behind the stage, blocked off by a yellow rope and a rather intimidating man who looked like he probably worked as a bouncer when he wasn't doing stuff like this. Unfortunately for Al, he couldn't see any way through the crowd in order to reach the stairs, and how was he supposed to get past that bouncer? He was quick and he was strong but that didn't mean he wanted to get into a fistfight with some guy. Arthur hadn't given him a backstage pass or any special instructions, what was he supposed to do now?

_Did he set me up?_

It seemed a little too likely for Alfred's tastes. Trust that little asshole to lure him here with the promise of sex then leave him high and dry. Fucking punk. He was gonna get his ass kicked tomorrow when Al—

"Hey, you Al Jones?"

The sound of an unfamiliar voice saying his name drew the athlete's attention and he looked up to find the bouncer pointing directly at him.

"Uh, yeah."

Twisting his hand, the bouncer curled his finger. "C'mere."

A little uncertain, Al moved forward through the crowd as the other people parted to let him through. They were staring, which made him uncomfortable, but he tried not to show it. No way was he going to let these punks know he was intimidated by them. Because he wasn't. Not even a little.

"What?" he asked once he'd reached the foot of the stairs, and the bouncer unhooked the yellow rope.

"Artemis told me to let you in."

Artemis? Who the fuck was Artemis? But Alfred didn't argue or say that he didn't know an Artemis. Someone had said to let him backstage and that was exactly what he wanted, so he wasn't going to take any chances in screwing it up.

"Okay." He grinned and started up the stairs, passing the bouncer and pausing as the yellow rope was put back into place.

"Go up." The bouncer shooed Alfred with one hand. "He's waiting."

"Hey, why does he get to go?"

"I wanna meet Artemis!"

"He's not even punk!"

Some of the concert's other attendees began to shout angrily at the bouncer and pushed forward against the rope. Alfred waited just long enough to see the man bark orders at them before he went up the rest of the stairs and found himself behind the stage. It was mostly dark, with bright lights hanging from the ceiling that didn't really do much for the corners and near the walls. That didn't matter, though, because the one thing Alfred wanted at that moment was standing only a few feet away, hands on his hips and that stupid smirk on his face.

Approaching the other male, Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Artemis, huh?"

Arthur shrugged one shoulder. "It's punkier than Arthur is, and lots of famous punk rock stars have stage names."

"So would you prefer I call you Artemis?"

"Baby," the smirk became more seductive and Arthur slid up to Alfred's side, wrapping an arm around the tall blond's waist, "you can call me whatever you want."

Baby? Huh.

Alfred grinned and slung his arm around Arthur's shoulders. "I can deal with that."

"I knew a big tough guy like you could handle it." Still with their arms around each other, the two blonds crossed the backstage area and headed towards a small door set in the back.

Expression cool and posture relaxed, Alfred acted like he had every right to be touching Arthur like this as they walked. "How'd that bouncer guy know who I was?"

"I told him to look for a tall, gorgeous blond with stupid glasses." Arthur was going to pay for that one, he knew it just from the way Alfred's arm shifted around his shoulders, but he kept his grin in place. He'd been teasing Jones far too long to get all submissive now—that would come later, when the athlete proved that he deserved Arthur's obedience. "I'm already packed up, so we can get out of here. You need anything?"

"Nope."

"Then let's go."

There was no one crowding this door, which Alfred was thankful for. The last thing he needed was to be spotted by someone he knew with his arm around Arthur Kirkland, Punk Rock Extraordinaire. So he considered it lucky that they left the stage and people behind and walked alone to where Arthur and the other band members and staff had parked. The green-eyed blond drove a plain black car, though as soon as he clicked the unlock button and the lights came on, Alfred could see the green and black seat covers and steering wheel cover.

"What is it with you and black and green?" he asked, only half joking, as he and Arthur slid into the two front seats.

"It's my favorite color."

"But isn't this overdoing it a little?"

"Nope."

Alfred made a face that clearly said he thought the shorter blond was a little bit nuts, but he didn't say anything. They were quiet for the drive, no longer touching each other, and not speaking, because the reality of what was only a few minutes away had dawned on them. Alfred and Arthur, after having said barely a word to each other for years, were on their way to the Brit's house to have sex, and neither one knew quite how to feel about it.

Excited. Nervous. Eager. Curious about how this was going to turn out, about what exactly was going to happen when they finally got the chance to release all that pent up sexual tension they'd been trying to ignore for all this time.

God damn Alfred was curious. He wanted to know what that tattoo was and if Arthur had more than one, he wanted to know how many piercings he was going to find on the smaller male's body, wanted to know how that skin was going to taste and what sounds were going to escape past snakebit lips, how Arthur would move and react to everything he meant to do to him. He was so, so fucking curious, and getting more impatient by the minute.

How far away was his house? Too much longer of sitting in silence like this and Alfred was going to say something stupid. He didn't know what, but he was sure it would be stupid. Something lame and awkward, maybe flirtatious in a vaguely creepy way, just to try to break the silence.

"Almost there."

Thank god.

Curious about where the smaller blond lived, Alfred leaned and peered out his window. He was surprised to find himself in the less fortunate part of the city—he'd had no idea Arthur lived in this neighborhood. But they were still driving, encountering dirtier streets and smaller houses, shitty looking apartment buildings and tiny stores that advertised liquor and cigarettes more than anything else. Wait, was that gas station being robbed?! Arthur lived _here?_ This was the worst part of the city!

Alfred was too shocked to voice any of his thoughts as Arthur pulled into a small, not very well lit or marked parking lot behind one of the smaller apartment buildings. The green-eyed blond was so sarcastic and cynical and snarky, he didn't act like he came from this sort of place at all. He had so much pride. He was in a band. He had piercings and tattoos, and Alfred refused to believe they were cheap because he knew Arthur would never get shitty body mods. How did someone like Arthur come from a place like this?

Neither boy said anything as they left the car—Arthur checked twice to make sure it was locked—and headed for the apartment building's back door. It wasn't locked, so they walked right in, though Alfred was a little bit hesitant to touch anything and almost tripped going up the steps because they were broken. Up a shabby, narrow staircase that smelled distinctly unpleasant and was lit by a single lightbulb at the top. Only two stories, but it looked like the stairs went down into a basement. Al hoped there weren't apartments down there. That would be a terrifying place to live. But then, this whole building—no, this whole neighborhood—was sort of terrifying.

At the top of the stairs, Arthur stopped and selected one of the few keys from the ring he was carrying and unlocked the door marked with a tarnished silver three. There was only one other door, that one labeled with a four, and a couple of windows that gave a view of the street in front of the building. Alfred let himself hope that the apartment on the other side of that door would be decent, but as Arthur pushed it open and they stepped inside, he found himself very, very wrong. Old gray carpet that looked like it hadn't been vacuumed in months, off-white, stained walls with cracks running across them, a light fixture hanging from the ceiling with only two of five working bulbs, dust and trash everywhere. The coffee table was being held up by a stack of what looked like porn magazines under its broken leg, and the TV was so old Alfred couldn't remember ever having actually seen one like it outside his grandparents' house when he was little. He wasn't even sure it would work if he turned the dial. The couch had rips in it that made him wonder if there weren't rats living in the stuffing.

Shit, what did he say? He'd sort of thought Arthur would live in a nicer neighborhood with typical middle class working parents and a decent house, not this smelly hell hole of an apartment building. Any plan of complimenting the Brit on his home was completely destroyed.

"Well, this isn't what I expected," he commented lamely, and Arthur looked at him, his expression defensive.

"What did you expect?"

"Uh, a house. Furniture. Just not…this."

"Well _this_ is all I have. If you don't like it, you can get a taxi back to your rich daddy's house and forget about the deal." There was so much bite in Arthur's tone that Alfred raised his hands in self defense.

"Whoa, I didn't mean to piss you off. I honestly just thought a guy like you would live in a different part of town."

Green eyes stared at him, almost glaring, and Arthur turned on his heel to stalk away through the apartment, his bony shoulders hunched slightly. "If you're staying, come on. If you're going, there's the door."

For a moment, Alfred hesitated. Did he want to go any farther into this place, even for the sake of getting laid? For the sake of all those fantasies that had tormented for he wasn't sure how long?

…yep.

Quickly, he caught up to Arthur and followed the shorter blond past a small bathroom and a frighteningly dirty kitchen into the farthest back room of the apartment. Walking into Arthur's bedroom was like walking into a whole nother building.

"Whoa." Alfred's tone was impressed as he said it for the second time, looking around in curious appreciation. "Nice."

The walls had been painted white and were covered in posters of movies and punk bands to cover up the cracks. A large black rug covered most of the floor, and both of the lights came on when Arthur flicked the switch on the wall. Both of the windows were open to let in the cool night air, and there were candles on the ledges to get rid of the smell that permeated the rest of the building. Arthur's room smelled like…mint and chocolate.

It was kind of sexy, if Alfred was honest with himself.

There was also no trash to be seen, except for in the bin in the corner, and the bed was neatly made with the typical black and green bed sheets and covers. One wall held nothing but a small door that was probably a closet, and it bore yet another band poster. A dresser, painted a dark gray, sat in another corner, and beside it was a small desk that held Arthur's school books. One of them was open to an assignment they'd received earlier that day—Alfred was surprised to see that his companion had bothered to do homework before his concert.

Arthur watched the taller blond examine his room, a little smug. "You didn't think I'd put up with the same shit my parents do, did you?"

"Nope. It's closer to what I expected. I like it. It suits you."

Clearly surprised by that reaction, Arthur stared for a moment before looking away to hide the fact that he'd actually started to blush a little. "Right. Good. Anyway."

"So," Alfred started, gaze sliding over to look at Arthur out of the corners of his eyes, "you still wanna do this?" The Brit looked up at him, considering his question, then shrugged and started crossing the room.

"Depends."

Not this again.

"Depends on what?" He had to force himself to sound patient as he followed Arthur as closely as he dared. Suddenly, the Brit turned and the two were almost chest-to-chest, less than an inch of space between their bodies.

"On if you're going to stop acting like such a fucking pussy and do something or if you're going to keep tiptoeing around like you might catch tetanus if you touch a doorknob."

Son of a bitch.

"I'm gonna kick your ass," Alfred replied, his eyebrows raised as he fought a grin. It was nice to be taunted without having to resist responding in any way.

"I hope that's not all you're gonna do." Arthur cast a somewhat seductive look over his shoulder as he turned and sat on the bed, crossing one leg over the other. He was wearing tight pants again, but they weren't jeans. They were black leather, and the way they hugged every little bit of his legs made Alfred desperate to know if his imagination was at all accurate about the other blond's body. The pants were the only difference from the outfit he'd worn to school that day, but the longer Alfred looked at him, the less he cared about the clothes. Clothes didn't matter. Clothes were nothing but in the way.

God he wanted there to be no more clothes.

Without wasting another second, Alfred reached out and wrapped his fingers securely around Arthur's wrist, yanking the smaller male to his feet. He didn't give him a chance to protest, just spun him around and shoved him forward until he had the Brit pinned against the wall.

"Well this is interesting," Arthur commented, his tone just short of sarcastic, though he fell silent when a larger body pressed against his back and hands started sliding over his hips.

Like he'd thought about just that afternoon, Al let his tongue brush over those rings in Arthur's ear then caught one between his teeth and tugged gently. "You're gonna shut up if you want me to fuck you," he growled after the ring slipped from his grasp, and Arthur chuckled.

"You sound like you think I want this more than you do, but you're the one rubbing your dick against my arse."

Another growl escaped him and Alfred pressed his hips forward, hands braced against the wall so that Arthur had nowhere to go. "I fucking know you want it, or you wouldn't have offered the deal."

"So confident," the green-eyed Brit sighed, as if it was sad. Even though he wasn't showing it, Arthur was already starting to feel the first little tingles of arousal creeping through his body. It was kind of difficult not to push back and whine and beg for Alfred to actually do something to him. More. He wanted more now just like he'd wanted more during P.E. class, only now he could actually have it. He had Alfred Jones pressed up against him in his bedroom, growling into his ear and _that _was delicious, not to mention the rather sizable lump that wasn't quite grinding into his backside. And the way the athlete had toyed with his helix rings? Fucking sexy. Arthur had had his fair share of partners, but they'd barely gotten started and he was already starting to think Alfred Jones was going to be his favorite mistake.

"Yeah." A bit roughly, Alfred moved one hand down to Arthur's hip and rubbed, forcing the smaller male to move just slightly. "You've teased me every fucking day for years. Tonight, I'm taking everything you ever offered."

Yes, god, please.

"I'll be convinced when you actually do something." Why the hell wasn't he taking the bait? Arthur was setting the idiot up to treat him like his bitch and Alfred was fucking stalling! He should have at least been shirtless by now!

Behind him, Alfred had closed his eyes and was counting to ten in his head. He didn't want to hurt Arthur, just wanted to teach him a lesson. Maybe there would be some pain involved, but not out of anger. If the Brit kept up this damn teasing, though, he might not be able to help it. His temper might get away from him. "Arthur."

"Yes?" The shorter blond was innocent even as he dug his nails into his palms to keep himself from taking control.

"I don't wanna hear another word out of you unless I'm making you scream."

Arthur twisted his head around to smirk up at Alfred, his tongue sticking out. "What about begging?" he asked playfully, and a large hand gripped his chin.

"Begging is allowed."

"Oh, goody."

His first reaction being to roll his eyes, Alfred had to sigh and shake his head before he tightened his grip on Arthur's chin and leaned, almost hitting his head against the wall, and kissed him. Immediately, pierced lips parted and teeth caught his lip, tugging before a tongue traced across Alfred's mouth. Something round and hard dragged against his skin—Arthur had a tongue stud. Taken off-guard, the athlete's grip loosened, and Arthur managed to turn his smaller frame until his back was to the wall and he could slip his hands down a muscular chest to the hem of a t-shirt. He started to lift, and Alfred lifted his arms as soon as he realized what the guitarist wanted. They removed his shirt together, eyes meeting once the garment had been tossed onto the floor. Arthur was biting his lip, looking up through green-tipped bangs, fingers resting against Al's lower stomach.

That was probably the most innocent sexy face Alfred had ever seen. "Aw, fuck." Quickly, he tangled a hand in golden blond hair and drew Arthur forward to kiss him again, tilting his head and plundering the Brit's mouth before another word could be said. Arthur moaned quietly, eyes falling closed and hands moving to hips, pulling to bring his body closer to Alfred's. It always felt good to have someone else against him, but this was something else. This was…perfect.

Since Alfred was so much taller than he was, it was easy for the athlete to dominate the kiss almost completely, but Arthur wasn't one to meekly let another man's tongue fuck his throat. For a few moments, he was pliant and malleable in Alfred's hands. He let the other blond push him back against the wall again, let a hand wander up his stomach under his shirts, let teeth catch and nip his lips and snake bites, let Alfred's tongue explore and investigate the metal stud going through his own tongue. And he moaned. He gasped at Alfred's touch and whined every time the ash blond withdrew, clung to him like any needy bitch would. Because he was feeling pretty needy, but he was also playing up his reactions considerably to egg Alfred on. This was good, but he wanted great. He wanted god-like, wanted heaven. He wanted the punishment and fucking that Alfred had kept saying he was going to get. So he was perfectly submissive, until the kiss started to lose its almost forceful edge.

As soon as he realized Alfred was backing off, Arthur growled and pushed back, wrapped his arms tight around the athlete's neck. His hips rolled, rubbing their groins together, and he attacked Alfred's mouth as if he meant to claim it for the rest of eternity. To his delight, Alfred grabbed onto him and shoved him against the wall so hard it almost hurt his back, came back with renewed vigor. Except Arthur didn't back down and be submissive this time. He kept kissing the bespectacled blond until he was fighting for breath, until Alfred was fighting, too, until he was only a few seconds away from pulling himself up and wrapping his legs around the other male's waist to press closer, to increase that wonderful, exquisite friction that was making him arch his back and move his hips in a shamefully desperate way.

Finally, he started to get too lighted-headed to continue and pulled back, gasping Alfred's name as he did, and leaned his head back against the wall in order to catch his breath. Breathing just as hard, Alfred let his forehead press against the Brit's and smiled crookedly.

"Fuck," he commented breathlessly, then chuckled, and Arthur grinned.

"Yes, please."

"God you're such a tease."

"You like it."

"Heh. Yeah."

While Arthur watched, Alfred ducked down and latched his mouth onto the side of the Brit's neck, teeth digging into pale flesh and tugging as he sucked. His tongue laved; he slid his hand out from under Arthur's shirts and around, down to cup his ass and squeeze.

Arthur let his head tilt to the side, giving Alfred more room to bite and lick, and he shifted between muscular body and teasing hand. "Mm…Al…"

Oh, he liked the sound of that, and he meant to make Arthur say it over and over again, in whimpers and moans and screams and any other pretty sound he could drive out of him.

"Al…" Slowly, Arthur relaxed his arms and let his fingers trail down Alfred's chest, tracing over shoulders and pecks and that god-like six pack to the finely defined hip bones. His fingers encountered denim and halted their downward path, began moving inwards until they found the buckle of a belt. And, while Alfred was busy leaving a series of hickeys on Arthur's throat, the Brit slid the belt free of its buckle. He moved onto the button after that, then the zipper, delicately drawing it down and groaning softly when Alfred's mouth wandered up to his ear and began playing with his helix rings again. Each one was licked and tugged, all the way up and around. It almost tickled.

Just as he was gripping the fabric of Al's jeans in order to pull them down, the athlete suddenly stepped back away from him, gripping his wrists and moving them away from his jeans.

Confused and annoyed, Arthur glared. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he demanded, and Alfred smirked.

"You first."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Trust Alfred to interrupt things just to be a picky asshole. But arguing wouldn't do him any good so he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Still with that stupid damn smirk, Alfred released the smaller male and stepped back. "Then strip."

He had to be fucking joking. Arthur had helped him with his shirt, and done his belt and jeans! The least the git could do was return the favor! As he glared, though, Arthur realized that the athlete wasn't about to give in. If he wanted to continue, he was going to have to follow Alfred's orders.

_Oh._

Realization dawned. How had he not realized it before? It was so simple.

A devious grin took over the Brit's features; he clasped his hands behind his back and leaned against the wall. "You'd love for me to follow your orders, wouldn't you, Alfred."

Al clearly didn't see where Arthur was going with this. "It'd be nice."

"Yeah, it would. But I think you want more from me than just my compliance. I think you want my complete obedience. I think you want to bend me to your will and make me fulfill every dirty little fantasy in that head of yours. Right? Wouldn't that be nice? If I was your pretty little plaything for a night? Let you dress me up and strip me down, tease me until I beg for you, then torment me some more? Stretch me so wide I can't possibly take anymore then fill me up over and over until the only thing I can do is call out for 'Master Alfred' while you fuck me raw?" Pushing away from the wall, Arthur slinked across the short distance Alfred had put between them. He placed a hand on the taller blond's chest, felt his heart pounding behind his ribs, looked down at the bulge in Al's jeans and licked his lips. "Yeah, you want me dripping and begging, maybe even tied up so I'm helpless to relieve myself. You want me begging and pleading until you have enough mercy to take pity on me and let me cum. Wouldn't it be _nice,_ Master? If I was your good boy?"

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

Alfred had never heard anything like that in his life. Was he breathing? Maybe. Maybe not. He wasn't sure. It didn't matter. Yeah, he wanted all those things Arthur had just described. He'd never really thought of it as being the Brit's master, but damn that was a hot picture in his head. Would Arthur really let him do all that?

"….are you serious?"

Arthur nodded, his gaze lowered submissively. "Yes, Master."

God damn. Okay. How did he respond? Was he just supposed to start giving him orders? How specific was he supposed to be? He'd never done this sort of thing before. What if he screwed it up? Would Arthur laugh at him? That would be the worst embarrassment of his life. Shit.

Waiting.

Waiting.

_It's not that bloody hard. Just tell me what to do. Give me a command. Make me your bitch. Come on, Alfred. Where's all that dominance from a bit ago?_

What was taking so long? He hadn't said all that just so Alfred would lose his nerve and do nothing. It looked like he was going to have to do a little more tempting, maybe some taunting, teasing and provoking. That was what worked before, there was no reason for it not to work now.

Hiding his annoyance, Arthur reached up and lightly kissed the athlete's chest. "Master?"

"Yeah?" As he'd feared, Alfred sounded hesitant and nervous.

"Are you going to punish me? I've been bad…"

"Oh. Uh. Yeah."

"Master doesn't sound too sure. Maybe he isn't mad? Maybe he isn't going to punish me?"

They looked at each other for a moment, Arthur's eyes wide and innocent as he pouted slightly. In contrast, Alfred's eyes were narrowed as he thought, and soon he was frowning.

"No, I'm definitely going to punish you. So," he arched an eyebrow and grabbed Arthur's chin almost painfully tight, lifting until the shorter blond was forced onto the tips of his toes, "first, you're going to admit what you did wrong, and you're going to apologize. Then I'm going to punish you, and if I don't think your apology is sincere, your punishment will be that much worse. We'll keep going until I think you're really sorry."

Now _that _was more like it. Seemed like Alfred was going to fill his role just fine.

"Y-yes, Master…"

"Good. Now, tell me what you did."

With an apologetic expression, Arthur looked down as much as he was able, which wasn't much considering Alfred hadn't let go of his chin. "Made Master angry," he whispered, tone almost frightened.

"Yes, you did. But be specific, Arthur. What did you do to make me angry?"

"Teased…"

"Yeah." Using his grip on the shorter male, Alfred pulled Arthur closer until their noses almost brushed, until it was a struggle for Arthur to maintain his balance and their chests touched. "You teased me when you knew I wouldn't do anything to you for it. You made my life hell, and you liked doing it. Isn't that right?"

Arthur whimpered, nodding, knowing it would make his "punishment" that much worse. God he was looking forward to this. Alfred was perfect. He'd slipped into his role as Master as if he'd done it a hundred times, as if they were lovers and this was their favorite game. To be honest, it was one of Arthur's favorites. He rather liked the thrill of not knowing what exactly was going to be done to him, or when he might be given a break. It was exciting and it was bloody sexy. Alfred was sexy. Just the look in his eyes, that dominant, aggressive, no-nonsense look, made Arthur really believe that the taller blond wasn't going to give him an inch, and it was going to be glorious.

Shaking his head, Alfred tsked his tongue and sighed. "Such a naughty pet. I thought I trained you better than that. Or maybe," he leaned close now, head tilted, mouth so close to Arthur's that the green-eyed teen could feel breath against his lips, "maybe you really _like _what I do to you. Hm? You always beg for more. You moan and move like a whore, like my personal, pretty little slut. The sounds you make…so sexy." Alfred smirked, watching as Arthur's pinks flushed a dark pink and he toyed with his lip ring in a nervous way, felt him shift his weight from foot to foot. "Yeah, you're naughty, but you like it. You love when I mark you, when I touch you and make you squirm. Such a dirty little slut."

He was talking like they'd done this countless times and Arthur was starting to wish that they had. How many times had he had opportunities to approach the athlete and hadn't? How many times had he passed up a chance to experience this spine-tingling foreplay? Too many. Too fucking many.

"M-Master…I…I…"

"You, what? Are you going to deny it? That would be a lie, Arthur, and we both know it. If you lie to me, I'll have to punish you for that, too." Alfred chuckled. "But you'd like that, wouldn't you."

Shit, he was good. His momentary hesitation a bit ago might as well not have happened. He was a natural. He was making Arthur nervous and impatient and needy and hell no one else had been able to get to him so quickly, not during this game.

Quiet, Arthur lowered his gaze again and let his voice come out small and meek. "Yes, Master."

Alfred smirked and brushed his thumb over the Brit's lips, toying with the rings. "That's what I thought." He was finally going to get to bend Arthur to his will and show him who was boss, teach him a lesson, make him sorry for all that damn teasing, and he was going to love every minute of it. "Now, since I know you're not sorry, why don't you be a good boy and strip? I'd hate to make you wait for your punishment."

In his head, Arthur was dying. This was wicked. This was perfect. Yes. Yes. Yes. He would strip, he'd beg and apologize and beg some more, he'd do anything Alfred wanted, just as long as he kept talking like that. So bloody sexy. But outwardly, all he did was nod obediently, and then Alfred let him go.

"Don't keep me waiting, Arthur."

Ducking his head, the shorter blond nodded again and shyly turned his back on the other male. He acted hesitant and nervous as he pulled the fishnet off over his head, dropping it by his feet, and reached for his vest top with trembling fingers.

After this, things were really going to start moving. It would be a whirlwind of teasing and foreplay and a whole hell of a lot of dirty abuse talk, and then, finally, they would fuck. More than once, hopefully. Probably. Definitely, if Alfred was up to it, which he would bet the American was. Yeah, they were going to shag until one of them couldn't move anymore. Hopefully, that would be Arthur, but he wouldn't mind finishing Al off even if he was exhausted to the point of collapse. He certainly hoped he would be exhausted by the time they finished.

It was going to be brilliant, and as he started to lift his shirt, he could feel Alfred's eyes on him like a touch. The tension that had always existed between them was so heavy now that he could have grabbed it and ripped it, crumpled it into a ball, cut it apart. Anticipation hung in the air. As of a few minutes ago, he was Alfred's personal, pretty little slut, and he was going to play his part until he couldn't even move, like a good pet should.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur was beautiful. It wasn't a word Alfred had ever thought he would apply to the punk, but as he watched the green of the smaller male's vest top slide against his pale skin and slowly reveal his back, it was the only word he could think of. Well, beautiful, and damn sexy. And it looked like that tattoo he was so curious about went lower than the Brit's shoulder blades. Damn.

It was obvious that Arthur was still trying to tease him a little by taking his time with this, but Alfred honestly didn't mind. For once, he was enjoying it immensely. The fact that Arthur was stripping for him was enough, and really it was hot to see such a slender body exposed so slowly. And that tattoo—it was a rip-skin, with colors underneath that looked like…oh. Ooh. He was definitely going to drag his tongue over that.

Finally, the vest top hit the floor and Arthur hugged himself, glancing over his shoulder with wide, uncertain green eyes to assess the other blond's reaction. Alfred was grinning, one side of his mouth quirked up higher than the other as he examined his soon-to-be-lover's body. Beautiful. Sexy. Perfect. And all his for the rest of the night.

Hell yeah.

"I like this," he commented in a low voice, reaching out to stroke his fingers along the inked portion of Arthur's back. Rip-skins had always seemed like a cool idea to him, but he'd never seen one in person. Now that he knew it was what Arthur had, he was almost surprised he hadn't thought of it himself. Of course the smaller male would have a rip-skin of the Union Jack. It made perfect sense.

"Thank you, Master."

Man, he enjoyed hearing that more and more every time Arthur said it. For someone as sarcastic and snarky as the Brit was, he was pretty damn good at the whole submissive thing.

"You're welcome." Moving closer, Alfred settled his hands on the golden blond's hips to hold him still as he ducked down and gently licked the tattoo. Arthur smelled like peppermint, matching the candles on his windowsills, and Alfred wasn't the least bit surprised. Weren't mint leaves green? Yeah. Arthur would totally smell like mint. The touch of his tongue made the green-eyed boy shift, made his back arch slightly and it sounded like he'd breathed in a little more sharply than normal. "You like that, Artie?" Alfred whispered, keeping his head lowered so that Arthur would feel his breath on his back. "That feel good?"

"Yes…"

"Good." Slower this time, the taller blond licked the tattoo then let his tongue trail along the ragged edges of Arthur's "ripped" skin. By the time he made it all the way around, Arthur was trembling in his grasp and he was pretty sure he'd heard the Brit mutter under his breath once or twice. It was funny and kind of cute. But as much as he would have liked to continue with these gentle licks and maybe graduate to kisses and then bites and maybe hickeys, he also wanted to see how well the smaller blond would do with continuing to follow orders, so he placed a lingering kiss on one of the marks he'd left on Arthur's neck a little while ago then stepped back again. "Finish."

Arthur nodded meekly and busied his hands with the task of opening his belt. It was the black leather kind with the silver studs that go all the way around, so it never went on or came off easily, but he had plenty of practice with it. So when he had the buckle open, it was a matter of patience that he managed to slowly slide it free of his skinnies and dropped it on the floor off to the side. He made sure to lower his head while he worked on the button and zipper, making himself look smaller to help with the game he'd started. Alfred really was doing a fantastic job—no one had ever reacted to his tattoo quite like that and he'd really enjoyed the athlete's treatment. It was different and…nice. He was kind of surprised Alfred actually _liked _it, since most merely tolerated it. In fact, he'd been teased about it before, which had ended with the other guy sporting a black eye and blue balls because Arthur never fucked anyone who dared to make fun of him.

But Alfred liked his tattoo. Alfred was playing along with his game and doing brilliantly. Alfred was making Arthur genuinely feel small and submissive and it was hard to come by partners who could do that since the Brit had such a strong personality. But Alfred was doing it. How was he ever going to be satisfied with anyone else after this?

Maybe…maybe if he was really good, if he was just absolutely fucking brilliant, the jock would want to do this again sometime. Maybe it could be a regular thing. God, he had to be perfect. He had to make Alfred want this just as much as he did or he would spend the rest of his high school career regretting this and wishing he'd done something different and hating anyone else the jock decided to date or sleep with, and he really didn't want that. That would be horrible, the worst sort of punishment, and he really wasn't prepared to deal with heartache over someone like Alfred Jones. Seducing Alfred into wanting no one but him was just about his only option.

Slowly as if he was uncertain, Arthur slipped his thumbs inside the waist of his trousers and started to tug them down. Now was a moment of revelation. What would Alfred think? He had to realize that Arthur couldn't wear regular pants under such tight clothes, but this might be a little too much for the athlete. Almost nervous, he let his leather skinnies pool around his ankles and carefully stepped out of them, nudging them closer to his belt with his toes.

"Damn."

There wasn't enough intonation in Alfred's voice for Arthur to know if that "damn" had been impressed or surprised or disgusted. He was curious as hell but he didn't want to look if he was going to see the other male frowning. Still, he couldn't just stand there, either, so he hugged himself again and stood with his legs held close together, head as low as it went.

"Is…Master pleased…?" he asked softly, looking down at his own skinny, pale body and hoping with every fiber of his existence that the answer would be yes because getting this far into the game only to ruin it with something as silly as what pants he wore would be the worst thing. This was too good for it to end with Alfred leaving in a hurry and him having to masturbate just to be able to function normally again.

"Hell yeah." Okay, he was definitely impressed, and that put so much relief into Arthur that he almost sighed.

"I'm glad," he replied instead, smiling to himself a little.

"So am I."

Even though he didn't hear it, Arthur felt the other male moving closer and nearly shivered with anticipation of Alfred's touch. First, hands ghosted over the tops of his shoulders and stroked down his arms all the way to his wrists, then back up past his shoulders to his neck. Thumbs rubbed into the hair at the nape of his neck for a moment before those hands began the journey southward, following his spine and caressing the shape of his ribcage. When the touches neared his hips he straightened, lifted his head and tilted it so he could just barely see Alfred out of the corner of his eye.

The taller blond looked transfixed, his blue eyes locked on the body he was touching so carefully. Down to Arthur's hips where the American's hands paused to rub before ever so gently sliding onto thighs that were even paler than the rest of the green-eyed teen's body. Al's fingertips caressed the soft skin they found and stroked back up to encounter the thin bit of string that encircled the smaller blond's hips. They caught it and curled, making Arthur wonder if he was going to be wearing it for much longer. But Alfred didn't tug on it in any way, so maybe he meant to leave it, at least for now.

"Such a tiny scrap of fabric to cover such important parts, Arthur."

Ugh fucking hell the way Alfred purred his name just about drove Arthur mad. And the tone he used? Like he thought Arthur had worn it purposefully for him—maybe he had, maybe he hadn't—or like he should know better than to dress in a way that left him somehow vulnerable, was perfect for this game. Arthur felt almost embarrassed and like he should apologize, though he wasn't entirely sure what he would apologize for.

"Hmmm…it looks good on you, though. And it's so easy to move," with one finger, Alfred gently pulled at the string until it came away from the smaller blond's ass, "that I could fuck you with it on. Would you like that?"

God yes. Please. That would be so fucking hot. It would be torturous and embarrassing and it would be fantastic.

"If that's what Master wants."

"But I want to know what _you _want, Arthur. Do you like wearing your pretty little thong? Does it make you feel sexy?" Alfred was smirking as he asked, voice low and husky, eyes watching the slight shiver that went through his new pet. "It doesn't really matter to me. I'm going to fuck you no matter what you're wearing, but if you want to keep it on, don't be afraid to say so."

"I…um…yes…at first…"

"Then you can keep it on for now."

Arthur nodded jerkily, almost painfully aware of the fact that Alfred still had the string of his thong caught on his finger and could easily snap it if he wanted to. But he was going to let Arthur wear it for a little longer yet and honestly the idea of the athlete shagging him while he wore it was pretty damn sexy.

The real question now was what would Alfred come up with next? Would he make Arthur lie on the bed? Kneel? Dance for him? Another breath-stealing kiss? There were so many possibilities that he didn't even want to try to figure out what the other teen might come up with.

"Now, Arthur," both of Alfred's hands moved up to settle on the shorter blond's shoulders and he put his mouth by Arthur's ear to whisper, "I remember you saying something about me wanting to tie you up. So, why don't you be good, and get out your toys? I know a dirty boy like you has plenty of them."

Wow. Okay. No one had ever picked up on that before. Yeah, he had quite the collection of sex toys, but he almost never got them out for a request. Most of the time, he didn't even tell his partners he had them. Alfred's guess was a lucky one.

"Yes, Master." Keeping his gaze down in a submissive fashion, Arthur stepped out of the taller male's grasp and moved towards his closet. Inside, up on the top shelf and shoved back where it wasn't noticeable, was an unmarked box. Arthur was overly aware of eyes on him as he went on his tiptoes to reach the box and finally managed to pull it down from the shelf. When he turned, he dared to glance at Alfred and found the athlete smirking sexily. Just that look told him that he was in for one hell of a night, and he set the box on his bed with a certain amount of apprehension.

"Open it."

He did.

"Take everything out and set them neatly on the bed. I want to see what all my options are."

Yeah, this was going to be one hell of a night.

Being careful, Arthur emptied the box and set each toy on top of his comforter, making sure they were neat and organized so that he wouldn't incur some other sort of punishment from the athlete standing beside him. It was the first time someone else had gotten to see this, and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. This was Alfred Jones, someone he went to school with and was going to have to see nearly every day for over a year, and he was about to use any combination of the items Arthur had just set out.

"I'm impressed, Arthur." That was such a fucking understatement but he didn't know what else to say. "Wow that's a big collection of sex toys"? "Where did you get them all"? "Can I use them all on you"? No way was he saying anything that stupid. But, holy shit, he hadn't even known this many types of toys existed. Arthur had it all and if he hadn't been playing the role of Master then Alfred would probably have been a little intimidated. Clearly, the smaller blond was more experienced with this sort of sex than Al was.

There was a thick black collar with a ring for a chain—said chain was neatly coiled beside it—and a pair of padded handcuffs. Blindfolds. Gags. Vibrators and dildos in shapes and sizes that Alfred would never even dreamed existed. Cock rings of varying size and color—did that one glow in the dark? Wow. Fuck, there was a riding crop, too, and a bunch of leather straps with buckles that were probably restraints of some kind. Lotions and oils and at least three different types of lube, too. Yeah, he was definitely going to try out quite a few of these.

"Does Master know which ones he wants to use?" Arthur was looking up at him, still with that wide, innocent expression that promised he'd do anything Alfred wanted.

Hmmm….yeah.

Silent, Alfred picked up the collar and wrapped it around the smaller blond's neck, fastening it securely but not so tightly that Arthur wouldn't be able to breathe. It was already going to be hard enough or the Brit to catch his breath without added constriction. As soon as the buckle was set he latched the chain onto the ring and gave a gentle tug to test it, smiling slightly when it made Arthur lean forward. His grin grew and he used the chain to pull the green-eyed male towards himself until they were chest-to-chest, and he held Arthur there as he leaned down to kiss him. Teasingly, tauntingly, tasting his lips and nipping at them, using his tongue to toy with the snakebites. He could feel Arthur trembling against him, knew the punk wanted to grab him and deepen the kiss but was holding back with everything he had. It was amusing, to say the least.

When he was satisfied that he'd pushed Arthur's patience to the limit, he slowly drew back and kissed his new pet's forehead. "Good boy."

A whine sounded in the back of Arthur's throat but he didn't say anything, merely waited for Alfred to make his next move.

Alfred kept his grip on the chain firm, though he allowed the Brit to take a couple steps back, and set his gaze on the remaining toys. It would be sexy as hell to cuff the shorter boy, but he thought those straps would be pretty damn hot, too. Maybe he could do one then the other. Cuff him to the headboard and drive him insane…use the straps while fucking him so he was completely helpless…yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

"Hands." It was said casually but expectantly, and Arthur obediently held his hands out in front of himself as Alfred picked up the handcuffs. As if he'd done it countless times, the bespectacled blond locked one of the cuffs around a delicate-looking wrist then caught Arthur's chin in his hand. He lifted, forcing green eyes to meet his own, and smiled. "Would you like to know how I'm going to punish you?"

For a moment, Arthur was quiet as he considered the question, then he licked his lip and nodded as much as the larger male's grip would allow. "Yes, Master, please."

Still holding onto his chin, Al set his free hand on Arthur's lower back and pushed to bring him forward, pressing their hips together so the Brit would know exactly how turned on all of this was making the athlete—Alfred was satisfied to feel that his pet was just as aroused. "I'm going to tease you until you break, Arthur," he whispered, so close that his lips almost brushed against the other teen's, "until you're crying and begging me to fuck you, screaming out in that pretty voice of yours. I'm going to make you lose your mind and then I'm going to do things to your sexy little body that no one's ever done before. By the time I'm finished with you, you won't even be able to look at me without remembering how it'll feel for me to touch you, or the all the ways I'm going to make you scream. After this, you'll be so busy trying to keep from pleasuring yourself at the sight of me to ever dare tease me again. Understand?"

His pupils dilated and mind busy picturing everything Alfred had just described, Arthur fought his body's urge to buck and grind against the larger male and nodded slowly. "Yes, Master…"

"Good." Stepping back, Alfred tugged at the chain with a little more force than before. "Clear off the bed, but don't put any of those toys away. I'm not finished with them yet."

Arthur whined and did as he was told, aware that Alfred was watching his every move with a hunger that convinced the Brit that he wasn't going to be in any sort of shape for life tomorrow. It was a good thing he didn't work, otherwise he would have had to call in sick, or gone in and been completely useless. When he had the bed cleared, the toys moved to his desk where Alfred would easily be able to get to them throughout the night, he turned and looked up at the American. "What next, Master?"

Good question. He wanted to make the pierced musician lie on the bed so he could cuff him to the frame and torment that perfect body until Arthur begged for him, but he also wanted Arthur all over him and that couldn't happen if he tied the Brit down. Damn, this was harder than he'd thought. There were so many options—how was he supposed to choose?

_I've got all night. Why not do it all?_

Well, that settled it.

Grinning, the blue-eyed teen sat on Arthur's bed and settled comfortably against the pillows. The chain was pulled on until Arthur came forward and crawled up to him, their faces only an inch apart.

"Pleasure me."


	4. Chapter 4

Just the sound of those two words made Arthur want to grin and nod, to stretch out for Alfred to see and then kiss him as seductively as he could manage. Oh, he could pleasure him all right. He could pleasure him until Alfred forgot his own name. But that would come later, if they ever decided to make this something other than a one-night-stand. So, instead, Arthur nodded slowly, his gaze leaving the athlete's face and sliding down his muscular body. His first move was to settle himself against the larger teen so that he could roll and grind his hips in a gentle fashion as he started kissing Alfred's neck. A hand began stroking through his hair and he heard Alfred sigh quietly.

"Master…my strong, handsome Master…" he crooned, letting a hand slide down the American's torso and over the fabric of the jeans that, for some reason, still hung around the taller male's muscular frame. A second later he felt Alfred arch beneath him and smiled, his hand pressing lightly against a jean-clad groin. "Master is big," the green-eyed blond purred, letting his fingers spread and caress in a way that had Alfred tightening his grip on the chain.

"Are you teasing me, Arthur?" the bespectacled blond growled, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

Immediately, Arthur lowered his gaze from the other teen's face and pulled his hand away. "No, Master, of course not."

"That's what I thought."

Arthur nodded before he dared to place a hesitant kiss on Alfred's throat. Lifting off the larger male, he set both hands to the task of tugging Alfred's jeans down off his hips. Their current position meant he only managed to move them a few inches, but that was all he needed. His next move was to curl his fingers around the waistband of the grey plaid boxers Alfred was wearing and pull them down—the chain attached to his collar was tugged and he looked up into blue eyes.

"Yes, Master?"

A smirk appeared on Alfred's handsome features and he pulled at the chain until Arthur leaned forward and their lips met in a kiss. It was gentler than Arthur would have expected, and he let his eyes fall shut as a hand slid down his back. Alfred's tongue brushed against his lips as the American tilted his head, and Arthur obediently opened his mouth as a quiet sigh escaped him. The hand on his back started rubbing at the dip of his spine as Alfred began to explore his mouth again.

With part of his focus on the way Alfred was kissing him, Arthur used the rest of his mind to continue his task of pleasuring the larger male. Still kissing submissively, he braced one hand on the bed by Alfred's ribs and started to palm the hardened mass between Alfred's legs. The larger male moaned softly, his chest rising as he arched. Arthur grinned against his Master's mouth and squeezed gently, letting his hand trace the shape behind those boxers. Like he'd said, Alfred was big, and he couldn't wait to see what the larger teen meant to do.

Slowly, Arthur broke the kiss and began nipping at Alfred's throat. He put just enough force into the action that it would leave small red marks on the other's tanned skin. It was the perfect opportunity to investigate the other's cologne—something dark and warm and sweet that made Arthur lick up to Alfred's ear before the Brit really knew what he was doing.

"Arthur…"

His name was sighed in his ear, putting a smile on his lips, and he hummed to fee l Alfred's hand sliding back to cup his rear.

"Master is so good to me," Arthur whispered before kissing just under the other ten's ear. "He treats me so well." More kisses trailed down Alfred's neck; the hand rubbed and squeezed patiently. "Even though I was bad, he lets me be close to him." To make his point, Arthur let his weight rest against the other boy and nuzzled Alfred's chest affectionately. A chuckle rumbled in the athlete's chest, tickling Arthur's ear, and he smiled before leaving a kiss over his Master's heart.

While Alfred continued to let his fingers tease the sensitive skin of Arthur's backside, the green-eyed musician left kisses trailing down his soon-to-be-lover's torso. All those days spent teasing the athlete, admiring him in silence and knowing the desire was mutual, and now here he was. Straddling Alfred Jones, practically naked with the blue-eyed blond in his bed. All those muscles were his to touch and taste. Finally.

Gentle fingers trailed down his sides and Alfred let himself smile a little. The sight of Arthur practically worshipping him was more than welcome, and he was definitely enjoying all those soft kisses. And seeing the punk in nothing but a little black thong that he could get rid of whenever he wanted? He couldn't have asked for a better way to spend his evening.

"Mm." He shifted when the kisses moved to his lower stomach, grip tightening on the chain in his hand. "Arthur."

Green eyes looked up at him; Arthur licked his lips in a way he knew had to be irresistible. "yes, Master?"

"Take my boxers off."

"Yes, Master."

He watched as Arthur sat up and started pulling at his clothes again, though this time he helped enough that the smaller blond managed to free his hips and upper thighs of his clothes. It was amusing to watch the punk try to be discreet in his examination of Alfred's newly exposed anatomy.

"You know what to do, Arthur," Alfred said quietly, giving the chain a gentle tug.

"Yes."

Carefully, Arthur moved back and leaned down to brush his lips against Alfred's thigh. This skin wasn't as golden as the rest of the athlete, but it wasn't pale, either.

_He must tan._

The thought of Alfred lying naked in the sun was enough to make Arthur smirk But he didn't let himself get distracted—his Master was waiting.

Looking up to meet blue eyes, the tattooed teen slowly leaned down to ever so gently kiss the tip of Alfred's erection. He wanted to tease the other male so badly that it made his body ache a little. It would be easy. Pin his hips to the bed and torment him for what Alfred would think was hours. It would be so bloody easy.

At least, it would have been if there hadn't been a collar around his neck.

Instead of teasing like he wanted, Arthur settled his weight on his knees and braced his forearms on Alfred's hips. Gently, he stroked his fingers over the other teen's member and kissed the tip again. Fingers curled into his hair and he glanced up to find Alfred frowning down at him.

"Don't take too long, Artemis." The chain clinked softly as Alfred arranged it on his chest and stomach. "We have your punishment to look forward to, after all." He smired then, and gently used his grip on the golden blond's hair to force Arthur's head down. The smaller male was left with little choice but to open his mouth and accept the length Alfred obviously wanted him to focus on. He loosened his jaw and relaxed his throat in preparation but Alfred stopped pushing after he'd taken only the first couple of inches—less than half.

Arthur made a sound of protest and pulled against the larger male's grip until Alfred's fingers relaxed. In the next moment, he had the entirety of the athlete's member in his mouth and tickling the back of his throat.

"Good boy." It was all Alfred could think to say. Well, that was a lie. There were a lot of things he was thinking that he could have said, but that one was the most appropriate for the situation. But damn, Arthur had barely started to suck and it was good enough that he wanted to curse. Wow.

Letting his head rest against the wall, Alfred watched the collared teen through the slits of his eyelids. He couldn't keep them open any farther than that, not with the way Arthur was starting to bob his head.

"Fuuuuck," the bespectacled blond groaned, grip tightening in Arthur's hair for a moment at the sensation of that tongue stud rubbing against his length. Holy shit, the punk gave good head.

The sound Alfred had just made had Arthur smirking around the object in his mouth. He'd barely gotten started and the athlete was already enjoying it this much? Damn, he was better at this than he'd thought. But then, if Alfred had never had a stud on his cock before, then his reactions should be pretty strong. And oh but Arthur was going to enjoy that to the fullest extent.

Tilting his head, the Brit dragged his tongue up the side of his Master's erection so that the top ball of his stud slid against it and caught on the ridge of the head to tug just slightly. His fingers were busy rubbing and stroking around Alfred's base, and a moment later his tongue was occupied with the tip. There was a vein that demanded his attention—he teased it with his stud then nipped at it so Alfred would feel the rings in his lip and won a gasp from the larger male.

"Arthur." Alfred's tone was impatient and he tugged at the punk's hair a little. "Don't tease."

Ugh, no fun, but he supposed he would have chance to play around later, so for now Arthur nodded and obediently took the athlete's length into his mouth again. He sucked, head bobbing slowly as his tongue caressed and rubbed. The taste of what had to be Alfred's pre-cum joined in with the salty flavor of his skin, surprisingly sweet for a jock, which meant the blue-eyed blond had a sweet tooth.

Cute.

That taste also meant the athlete was starting to get close, so Arthur tilted his head and gently nipped the sensitive flesh in his grip.

"Ah…"

Fingers ran through his hair, threatening to grab and pull at any moment but gentle for now, and mumbled words fell from Alfred's parted lips as his breathing grew chaotic. Arthur splayed his hands over the larger male's hips and pushed slightly to hold himself up, shifting his weight to his stomach and spreading his legs until they rested on either side of Alfred's. It was a slutty way to position himself but he was a pet pleasuring his Master so slutty was exactly what he wanted to be.

"Fuck, Arthur…hng…"

That was Arthur's cue. Alfred's voice was strained and his hips were starting to shift under the golden-blond's body; the athlete was close. Deliberately sloppy, Arthur switched from sucking to licking, letting his spit coat the erection he'd been tending to so diligently. He let it brush against his lips and cheeks and breathed against it so Alfred could feel the heat. His snakebites and stud were used to the fullest extent, trailing against Alfred's sensitive flesh and rubbing in all the right spots. Without warning, Alfred's hand fisted in his hair and yanked, forcing the punk to deepthroat his length at the same time as his hips jolted up so that Arthur barely managed to avoid choking.

"Nng…" The slight pain of so suddenly having something in his throat made his eyes water a little. He wanted to protest, but the cock in his mouth prevented that, so he settled for doing what he knew Alfred wanted. His hands were set on the mattress beside his Master's hips and he breathed carefully through his nose.

Slowly then faster, he moved his head, similarly growing rougher with his tongue and adding in his teeth now as a little bit of payback for what Alfred had just done to him. Sure, he was the pet and Alfred was his Master, and he was supposed to be being punished, but that didn't mean the athlete could be abusive without Arthur retaliating in some way.

His revenge consisted of catching Alfred's length between his teeth and dragging them against the sensitive flesh.

"Shit!" Alfred tugged at his hair, head thrown back and eyes closed; his other hand was fisted in the blankets. "Arthur!"

He did it again, this time adding in the feeling of his stud and using it to tease the American's tip when he reached it. For a moment, he held nothing but the head of Alfred's erection caught between his lips as he tongued it. Then, just as suddenly as Alfred had yanked his hair before, he relaxed his jaw and throat and took the athlete as deep as he could, humming as he did so.

"_Fuck!"_

The grip on his hair was so tight it was painful and Alfred's hips bucked up, forcing Arthur to lift himself or be choked again. Alfred's spunk filled his mouth and he swallowed it after only a moment's hesitation, making sure to continue to suck and lick until Alfred finally finished. Slowly, the athlete's hand relaxed; his body fell limp against the bed and he let out a contented sigh.

Gently, Arthur removed the larger teen's length from his mouth then licked his lips to gather any traces of spit or pre-cum or spunk. Alfred's groin was a mess, but that could be dealt with later. For now, he wanted a reward for performing so well.

"Master," the green-eyed musician dropped kisses up Alfred's stomach and chest then neck and along the edge of his jaw, stopping at the corner of his mouth, "was that good?" Blue eyes cracked open to look at him and arms wrapped around his waist a moment later, pulling him down to rest on top of the athlete's body.

"Yeah. That was good."

Arthur smiled and nuzzled into his Master's neck, cuddling against the other boy's broader frame. "Good."

One of Alfred's hands slid up his back and started stroking his hair, a gentler touch than he expected. He could feel a heart beating fast beneath ribs and smiled. There was a light coat of sweat on Alfred's body now, proof of the strain that had been put on him. Arthur didn't usually cuddle like this, but he was enjoying it too much to stop. The American was warm and comfortable to lie on, so why should he move? They'd get to the next part of their game soon enough, and besides, Alfred clearly needed a moment to recover. Arthur knew perfectly well how exhausting his blow jobs could be, and he'd worked extra hard on Alfred. He'd have been disappointed in himself if the athlete had been ready to continue right away.

He really shouldn't get too comfortable, though. As much as he liked Alfred, and as attractive as the ash blond was, the chances of this turning out to be more than a one-night-stand were slim. If he got attached, it would spell doom for the rest of his high school career. And what Alfred had said earlier, that Arthur would have to resist the urge to touch himself just at the sight of the athlete after tonight, well, as brilliant as that sounded, he knew he couldn't let it happen. The best he could do was try to please his almost-lover as much as possible and hope that Alfred wouldn't get tired of him after just one night. He liked to think he was too interesting to bore anyone, but who knew. It was still best to not get attached.

God, he still hadn't caught his breath. It hadn't been a problem for the majority of that, since Arthur had been pretty patient and slow about it, but towards the end there, he hadn't been able to take in a breath without it leaving him in some form of sound, and that had taken a lot out of him. Not to mention that his heart was hammering in his chest and his entire body felt tingly with leftover pleasure. Damn, that had been good.

And now Arthur was lying on him, snuggled into his chest and practically purring. How adorable was that? For a punk, Arthur was weirdly cute. Alfred hadn't even done much to him yet and he was obviously happy.

_Well, I'll fix that in a minute. Still have to use all those toys, and show him what happens to teases like him. He won't be able to walk normally for a week when I'm through with him._

Yeah, that was the plan. Fuck Arthur until the musician couldn't even remember his own name. Yeah. But for now, he was okay with resting together. He knew he'd been a little harsh a couple of times, and while he didn't exactly feel bad for any of it, he was aware that his new pet probably needed to recover. Giving head wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world, and Arthur had surprised him by swallowing. That deserved a little bit of a reward, even if it was just a few minutes' worth of cuddling.

Gently, Alfred ran his fingers through green-tipped hair and marveled at how silky it felt against his skin. His other hand was busy rubbing the small of Arthur's back, and Alfred absent-mindedly registered the feel of the smaller male's breath against his collarbone. The warmth of him was more noticeable than the weight—he seemed almost delicate.

It amazed him how soft everything about Arthur was. The punk had piercings and a tattoo, was in a band and didn't take shit from anyone. But his hair was silky and his skin was smooth and pale and perfect. There would be marks on it soon enough, but for now, the Brit was flawless. Looking at him almost made Alfred wish they could do this more often. Really, who didn't enjoy being used as a pillow, especially by someone who'd just given him the best blow job of his life? Not that he'd gotten very many, but Arthur was definitely the best, and Alfred was sure it was going to stay that way. Best blow job followed by the best sex he'd ever had.

_How am I going to be happy with anyone else after this?_


	5. Chapter 5

As cute as Arthur was, and as comfortable as cuddling like this was turning out to be, Alfred decided to give his pet only a couple more minutes of relaxing. It wouldn't be much of a punishment if he let the punk regain his strength after every little thing, and if he was going to do anything tonight, he was going to punish Arthur. That was the whole point of this, wasn't it? To show the green-eyed blond who was boss.

But for those few moments he had left, he let one hand trail idly down the Brit's back, and he traced the ripskin with gentle fingers. Arthur was completely relaxed against him, his breathing slow and even, betraying the fact that he was dozing. Heh, he was kind of adorable, for an annoying, arrogant, infuriating little fuck of a tease, anyway.

Alfred let out a content hum and began stroking Arthur's hair, once again marveling at the silky texture. Seriously, how did he get his hair this soft? Angel tears and pixie dust? Didn't matter, he supposed. His hair was soft enough. Not as soft as Arthur's, but soft regardless and he was fine with it. Besides, how very not cool would it be if he asked the punk lying on him what sort of shampoo he used? Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

Had it been those couple of minutes yet? Probably. But he was so comfortable and Arthur was a fantastic blanket and he really didn't feel like moving.

_You're his Master. Punish the little asshole._

Yeah, yeah, he would. In a minute. He just wanted to enjoy this for a little bit longer. It wasn't like he was the only one who wanted to stay like this, anyway. Arthur had never been much of a cuddler but all these tanned muscles were surprisingly comfortable to nestle into, and Alfred gave off an incredible amount of body heat. Maybe it was just because the athlete's pulse was raised, but still, even practically naked the way he was, Arthur wasn't cold.

He could have stayed like this for hours. All night, even. But Alfred was starting to play with the chain attached to his collar, which meant he was about to be dislodged from the larger teen's body.

"Arthur." The hand that had been so nicely petting his hair stilled on the back of his head.

"Mm?" he hummed, almost but not quiet opening one eye to look up at his Master.

Instead of replying, Alfred merely set his hands on the punk's shoulders and, as quickly and smoothly as he could, rolled them so that Arthur was on his back and Alfred was hovering over him. The look on the bespectacled teen's face made Arthur's heart stutter then take off in a thundering sprint. Those blue eyes were darkened by lust and hunger and triumph and he was smirking so widely that a peek of white teeth showed. It was his canine, and it looked like Alfred was about to bite him, devour him. Just the sight made Arthur nervous and excited and—

The smaller male lifted his chin to meet the downward movement of Alfred's head, their mouths coming together in a heated kiss. Only when he tried to wrap his arms around the other teen's neck did he realize Alfred was holding his wrists down, and he let out a protesting whine as he struggled. It was a useless thing to do considering how much bigger the other blond was, but he still tried, and his efforts earned a chuckle from his Master.

"You did a good job sucking me off, Arthur," Alfred whispered, drawing away far enough that their eyes could meet but staying so close that his lips brushed against Arthur's lip rings as he talked, "but that doesn't mean I'm not going to punish you."

Another whine sounded in Arthur's throat but he didn't argue or fight the blue-eyed male's hold. This was what he'd been waiting for all evening and he still wasn't quite over how quickly Alfred was adjusting to his role of Master. God he was bloody sexy when he was being dominant.

Slowly, the Brit licked his lower lip—and Alfred's in the process—then nodded obediently. "Yes, Master,"

"Good boy." Alfred smiled and sat up, lifting Arthur's wrists as he did, and casually looped the loose end of the handcuffs around one of the bars of the headboard. Convenient that the punk had this style of bed, but Alfred would have been willing to bet money that the golden blond did that on purpose.

The cuff was soon occupied by Arthur's other wrist, and then the punk was helpless to escape as Alfred's gaze trailed down his body. With his arms up over his head like that, it made the green-eyed teen's body look even slimmer than normal. And damn, how did anyone stay this pale? Didn't Arthur ever go outside? Even his nipples were the lightest shade of pink Alfred had ever…

Blue eyes widened for a split second before a grin took over the athlete's features. "You didn't tell me about this, Artemis." With one finger, Alfred gently teased the silver ring pierced through the punk's left nipple. It was small, so he wasn't surprised that he hadn't noticed it before, but with Arthur laid out like this for him to touch and taste and examine, it was hard to miss.

When the smaller teen remained silent, Alfred lifted his gaze to Arthur's face and smirked at the embarrassed pink tinge in the musician's cheeks. "What is it, my pet? Were you trying to keep secrets from your Master?"

Arthur shook his head fervently, teeth digging into the inside of his lower lip. Hooooly shit Alfred was starting to roll the ring around and hnnnng fuck! Nipples were a sensitive bit of anatomy anyway but piercings only made them that much easier to tease and the little spikes of pleasure Alfred was sending through his body made Arthur want to whimper. Did the athlete even realize what he was doing? Did he understand how sensitive piercings could be? Obviously not.

Even though Arthur didn't make a sound, he couldn't help his body's reactions. He felt warm and tingly and having nothing touched but that one spot was going to drive him mad. In moments, his breathing was uneven and he knew he was flushing redder by the second, knew he wasn't keeping his expression smooth anymore.

"You're trembling, Arthur. Does it really feel that good?" Alfred traced a lazy circle around his prisoner's nipple, watching the shiver that ran through Arthur's body. Damn that was sexy. "Don't keep it to yourself if I'm making you feel good. You know I like to hear that pretty voice of yours."

"It f-feels good." Arthur was breathless in an obviously needy way that made Alfred grin.

"Good." Taking his hand away, the athlete leaned over his pet again and held his mouth just above the pierced nub. He let out a slow, hot breath that had Arthur arching away from the mattress and whimpering so softly that Alfred almost didn't hear it. But he did, and it was all the encouragement he needed to slip his tongue out and ever so gently brush it against the ring and connected flesh.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Arthur shifted against the blankets and fisted his hands over his head. Fucking git. He hated being teased so much and yet here he was, teasing as if he'd been born to do it! The insufferable wanker.

"Hnn…" He couldn't help the sound that left him when Alfred's mouth latched onto his chest. It was all heat and wetness and ooohhhhh hell he was sucking on it! "Sh-shit…Alfred…hah…"

Teeth caught the sensitive flesh, making Arthur's breath stop in his throat. Slowly, Alfred lifted his head so that his teeth dragged and snagged on the ring to make Arthur gasp. Only when the metal slipped from his mouth did he look up at Arthur's flushed face. He was panting lightly and his eyes were closed—it was a sexy expression, but Alfred put that thought aside. There was something more important for him to address.

"Arthur." His tone was firm and decidedly displeased.

Slowly, the Brit stilled, and he seemed to realize that he was in trouble because he tried to sink into the pillows as if that would hide him. When he opened his eyes, he kept them lowered in submission. "Yes?" he answered softly, timid.

"What did you call me?"

Shit. Fuck. He was such an arse. How could he make such a stupid mistake?

"Alfred." He was even quieter now, mentally berating himself as Alfred looked down at him with surprisingly cold eyes.

"Yeah." The athlete reached out and firmly gripped Arthur's chin, forcing the green-eyed blond to meet his gaze. "But what are you supposed to call me?"

His heart was in his throat and Arthur had never been so nervous in his life. The plan had already been to punish him, but now he wasn't sure what Alfred was going to do to him. "Master…"

"Exactly. So, what should we do about this, Arthur?"

Arthur wanted to look away from those eyes but he couldn't bring himself to break the eye contact. What if it just made Alfred mad? He didn't think he'd survive any worse punishment than he'd already been expecting. "I…I don't know…"

"No?" There was patronizing curiosity in the larger male's tone, and Arthur shook his head as much as he could with Alfred still holding his chin. Alfred sighed then, and used his thumb to caress the rings in his pet's lip. "Well, I do."

The way Alfred was looking at him made Arthur want to curl up and protect his sensitive bits. This was not going to be good. It was probably going to be fantastic and sexy as hell and leave him twitching, but it was not going to be good.

Suspicious and hesitant and nervous, he watched the athlete stand and fix his jeans so they were hanging loose around his hips again—damn it, why didn't he just take the bloody things off?—then move to stand in front of the desk. It was silent in the bedroom as Arthur watched Alfred look at the toys he'd set out so neatly. Which ones would the bespectacled teen choose? How would he make the punishment worse? Just the anticipation was killing him. Somehow, Arthur was handcuffed to his bed and horny as all hell and, for some reason, no one was fucking him! If he hadn't known better, he'd have started begging Alfred to hurry up, he'd have keened and whined and simpered about how needy he was, but he had a feeling that wouldn't get him anywhere. This was a punishment. If he begged now, it would only convince Alfred to take his sweet time, and that was not at all what Arthur wanted. So he waited, and tried to guess which toys the athlete was looking at even though he couldn't see all that much from here. He could hear things being moved, could see Alfred picking things up and looking at them but couldn't tell what was being looked at.

_Hurry the fuck up._

God, his dick was starting to hurt. He'd been hard far too long to be left like this. And hadn't he earned a little indulgence? Hadn't he been so nice and sweet about sucking Alfred's cock like a good pet should? So why, on top of everything else that was going to happen to him tonight, was he being made to wait for a bloody eternity while Alfred apparently read the entire user's manual for every toy on the desk?!

The sense of frustration in the room was mounting and Alfred was glad his back was to the other teen. At least this way, Arthur couldn't see that he was smirking. Before he'd even gotten off the bed, he'd known which toys he wanted in order to punish Arthur for calling him by name instead of referring to him as Master. This waiting was just to torment the pierced teen, to make him learn some patience, to know what it was like to have the thing he wanted so badly to be so close and yet not be able to do anything about it. He was going to know, in some small way, how awful it had been for Alfred all those months of teasing.

So he waited another thirty seconds or so before picking up a silky piece of black fabric and turning back towards the bed. Arthur was looking at him, brow furrowed in obvious impatience. The flush had left his face and his breathing had returned to normal, though Alfred knew it wasn't going to stay that way for long. Not with what he had planned for that perfect pierced body.

But his expression was cold and controlled as he crossed the few feet between the desk and the bed, and he leaned over Arthur to meet the Brit's gaze.

"Are you ready to being, Artemis?" He could tell from the way those green eyes almost glared back at him that Arthur wanted to say no, but there was no way the punk would actually refuse. Not with the tent he was pitching in that thong of his. One of his eyebrows lifted in an expectant way. "Well?"

Holding back an annoyed huff, Arthur lowered his gaze and nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Good boy." Gently but firmly, Alfred tied the fabric he'd chosen around Arthur's head, covering his eyes so that the punk wouldn't be able to see. "Can't have you knowing what's coming, can we?" he teased, moving onto the bed again and positioning himself over his pet.

"…no, Master…"

"Hm." Alfred smiled and began dropping kisses on the pale skin of Arthur's throat. They were soft, for now, little more than his lips brushing against flesh, but they were enough to make the smaller teen shift on the bed and tilt his head to expose more of that beautiful neck. His pet was so well-behaved. Still, it was only another few seconds before he shifted up and bit the spot at the corner of the Brit's jaw, catching the pale skin between his teeth and sucking on it to make sure it would leave a dark bruise.

The bite made Arthur gasp softly and he arched off the bed, fingers curled into loose fists. Not being able to see anything was all very exciting, but he hadn't quite made up his mind about it just yet. Usually, his partners were blindfolded, not him. This was…exhilarating, to have to rely on his other senses to even begin to guess at what his Master might do next. His only clues were the heat of Alfred's body so close to his own but not quite touching, the way the mattress dipped where the larger teen's knees and hands were braced, and that mouth on his neck, the heat of Alfred's breath and tongue focused on that one spot. It was going to leave a fantastic hickey.

"Master," he sighed, letting his mouth hang open as his breathing began to quicken.

Alfred didn't reply, merely licked the mark he'd made then moved down to kiss along Arthur's collarbone. It was after he'd gone back and forth along the smooth curve of it a few times that he decided he wanted to place his next mark at the hollow of the green-eyed blond's throat. While his mouth was busy with that, he stroked a hand down Arthur's front until he encountered the soft fabric of his thong. Arthur's hips lifted eagerly, making the American smirk, and he gently cupped the smaller teen's groin. That was all he did, though, and Arthur made a frustrated sound as he pushed his hips up in search of pressure or friction.

What the hell was he doing?! The blindfold and the hickeys were enough to get him all hot and bothered but now with the hand? Just sitting there! Maddeningly! The only reason Arthur hadn't snapped at the larger blond to get a fucking move on was because he was biting his lip so hard just to keep his sounds back. This was obviously part of his punishment and just because he was a pet didn't mean he was going to make it easy. So he held back the voice he knew Alfred wanted to hear, and he did his best not to tremble, but the jock had moved down to lick and suck at his ringless nipple and he was having trouble not arching. It was so much heat to have in one spot, and Alfred's hand was warm even though it still hadn't moved. But…mmm…if he rolled his hips just right, he could get a little bit of friction.

The sound of Alfred's breathy chuckle reached his ears and he paused to listen, but the bespectacled teen didn't say anything, so he set his jaw and lifted his hips to continue his semi-pathetic humping of his Master's motionless hand. He could feel breath against the skin of his stomach and knew that Alfred was hovering there, just waiting, though he had no idea what for. Slowly, his hips stilled and he let go of his lip. His curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Master? What're you—ah!" A sharp pain laced with pleasure shot through him when teeth dug into his abdomen, just below his rib cage, and he arched before he could stop himself. "Master!" He could feel Alfred sucking on the spot and realized too late that he'd been played. Alfred had purposefully waited for him to drop his guard.

_Bastard._

Nnng but he couldn't keep quiet now that he'd let out one sound. Not that he was very loud. This wasn't enough to get much out of him, just little gasps and breathy moans. Still, though, Alfred's hand was on him, just resting against his trapped erection as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

Another hickey was created on the sharp edge of his hip bone and he shifted against the mattress, twisting slightly in what could only have looked like encouragement. It sort of was, but it was an instinctive reaction more than anything. Arthur was still too determined to be stubborn to deliberately get Alfred to continue. That was a simple matter of pride—he'd have been pissed if the American decided to stop.

The git probably looked so sexy right now. His hair was mussed from before, and Arthur wished he could look down and see those blue eyes looking back at him as Alfred licked and sucked at his hip. God, he wanted to see that. But all he had was the blackness of the blindfold, and that was frustrating enough that when Alfred finished the hickey and licked it, Arthur lifted his hips as a soft whine left his throat.

Alfred chuckled. "Impatient?"

With a small nod, Arthur shifted against the mattress again and spread his legs a little. "Please, Master," he whispered, "I want you."

The hand on his groin gave a nearly imperceptible squeeze and Arthur stiffened with a quiet moan.

"I know."

Then the hand was gone, and the mattress dipped as Alfred moved backwards until he was comfortable settled between the punk's legs, spread open for him in welcome. Arthur's thighs were beautifully pale, and he wasted no time in worshipping them. He caressed, let his fingers trail over them and squeezed at the more sensitive flesh on the insides, and kissed until Arthur was trembling. But the Brit hadn't made a sound, so Alfred lifted one of his legs and gently bit Arthur's inner thigh—a whimper was his reward. He sucked lightly to leave just a small mark high up near the green-eyed musician's groin. A small mark, but a definite claim on his pet's body.

_Mine._

After licking the spot, he lowered Arthur's leg again and focused on the one part of his soon-to-be-lover's body that he hadn't seen yet. He wanted to see, and taste and touch and tease, but he wasn't ready to remove that thong yet. Not just yet. Not when he could still drive Arthur mad with it on.

Glancing up, the athlete was pleased to find that Arthur's face was a dark shade of red, and his chest was moving rapidly as he breathed. The hickeys he'd left on his journey southward stood out so well against the punk's paleness that Alfred couldn't help but smirk. This might be a one-time thing, but Arthur wasn't going to forget about him in a hurry. Those hickeys would last for days.

More than a little satisfied with his work so far, Alfred turned his attention to Arthur's groin again and slowly ran a hand up each smooth thigh. Arthur shivered at his touch, an encouraging reaction, and it was all Alfred needed to duck down and begin the first real stage of this punishment.


End file.
